


Scattered Dreams and Far-off Memories

by WaiiKitsune



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Featherman is their common coping mechanism, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26437828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaiiKitsune/pseuds/WaiiKitsune
Summary: Goro’s nightmares are quiet. Akira’s nightmares are loud.Sometimes, on very rare occasions, their nightmares coincide, and like defeated disaster shadows, it isexplosive.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 7
Kudos: 201





	Scattered Dreams and Far-off Memories

**1\. Goro**

Goro’s nightmares are quiet. 

On some days, he dreams of the engine room, deep in that pompous cruise liner. He dreams of his own face, so similar yet so unrecognizable, sneering mockingly at him. He dreams of finally accepting the truth, that his revenge plot was just his wishful fantasy, that his hatred for those piercing grey eyes were just him refusing to believe otherwise. He dreams of the self-loathing that bloomed within him like poisoned thorns. He dreams that the fate he had finally accepted was _wrenched_ away from him by a bright red suit and brilliant black feathered wings. He dreams of pounding on cold steel, of screaming desperately because he is on the _wrong side_ of the shutters. He dreams of hearing that voice—the one he has started caring for, against his utmost effort—telling him to _live_ before the crack of a gunshot ring out and then… _nothing_. 

Some other days, he dreams of hallways that are long and silent. He dreams of that interrogation room, small and dark. He dreams of the silenced gun that he held in his hand. He dreams of the steel grey eyes, steady and _trusting_ , that look straight back at his own wine red ones even with a weapon pressed to his head. He dreams that he laughs, scoffing at the weak justice presented before him and then—

The nightmares vary, but always culminate in the same thing and Goro always wakes at the same point—the moment a gunshot fires and a dull thud follows. 

When Goro wakes, it is with a breathless gasp as his heart races and his hands shake, still curled around an invisible weapon that he no longer has. The first thing he does, before his thoughts even settle and his pulse calms, is to search immediately for those steel grey eyes that are, more often than not, already opened and looking warmly at him. Goro wants to reach out to him, to hold him tightly and never let go because he still lives in disbelief most days, and _his_ warmth and living heartbeat is the only thing that can convince Goro that this is _real_ , that they’ve really overcome everything to achieve this life, but in the wake of his dreams, Goro doesn’t trust himself to not hurt _him_. So Goro watches with his hands clenched tightly, as the chest in front of him rises and falls steadily.

Akira never asks the obvious questions—not when they are pointless and he already knows all the answers. Instead, he reaches a hand out and very gently prys open Goro’s tightly clamped ones. Akira slips his own hand under Goro’s and laces their hands together unhurriedly. Then, he begins to hum. 

The song Akira chooses tends to vary, ranging from the random songs (recommended by his fellow part-timer who always seems to have headphones around his neck, or odd earworms he hears on campus) to the Phoenix Ranger Featherman R theme song. 

Sometimes, like today, Akira hums the theme song wrong, and Goro knows his nightmares are worse that night.

Yet, on nights like these, Goro calms from his dreams faster as well. 

With just a beat off here and a wrong tone there, Goro is easily drawn from the afterimages haunting his mind. “Come now, how many times must I teach you, hm?” Goro says, when what he really means is, _“How much longer will you stay with me, broken as I am?”_

“Turns out I’m terrible at music, so… teach me again?” Akira answers, a stupid, dopey smile tugging at his lips. _“Forever, if you let me.”_

What happens next is a familiar song and dance to them. 

Akira shifts up on the bed and lifts an arm invitingly. Goro shifts down and ducks under the arm, resting his head firmly on Akira’s chest, right above his heart. They wrap their arms around each other tightly and tangle their legs. 

And then, Goro begins to hum the Phoenix Ranger Featherman R theme song correctly, and Akira follows.

**2\. Akira**

In comparison, Akira’s nightmares are _loud_.

On good days, he dreams of the interrogation room. He dreams of a detective entering the room after Sae leaves, of a gun pressed up to his head, of a smile of contempt that makes his heart ache and the nothingness that follows after. 

On good days, Akira wakes with a hand on his heart and another on his head, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breathes unsteadily and murmurs apologies and assurances as though _he_ isn’t the one who just had a nightmare.

On bad days, he dreams of the needles pressing into his skin as he tries but fails to hold on to his mind. He dreams of being unaware and terrified as the ‘detectives’ press him for a ‘confession’. Sometimes, he dreams that his mind simply fades and never returns. Other times, he dreams that Sae never has the chance to come; that before the ink bearing his name even dries, the pressure on his chest increases, his bones crack and break, his lungs puncture and he can’t breathe he can’t bre _athe he can’t breathe—_

On bad days, Akira thrashes as he wakes, still fighting invisible men with invisible needles. He scrambles to back into a corner, kicking at the fabric constraining his legs until nothing touches him and nothing holds him down. He curls up into himself, hugging his knees and hiding his face. He gasps and shudders and _cries_ and **_begs_ **for a mercy that will never come. He stays like that until the thick fog in his mind slowly fades with every minute he is untouched, allowing a voice, raspy with use, to gradually slip through. 

When Akira finally unfurls himself, his head is always the first to lift, and his eyes meet Goro’s, wide and tired and _relieved_ , from where he is always seated when Akira wakes on bad days—on the cold, hard floor just two steps away from the bed. Goro is talking— _still_ talking—about something that, when Akira finally manages to scrap together more than a shred of his mind to _listen_ , turns out to be the dissertation of why Black Condor is stupid and Red Hawk should not have forgiven him that easily. 

Akira hears it, hears what Goro is really saying, but he’s still tired and scared and _raw_ , so he reaches a trembling hand out, just to the edge of the bed and Goro answers, tenderly touching the tips of Akira’s fingers with his own gloved ones even as the words continue to pour out of his lips. 

Goro will talk for as long as it’s needed to get Akira out of his headspace because it is the only thing Goro _can_ do. 

The first time it happens, Goro tries to shake Akira awake because that felt like the logical thing to do. What happens next is that Goro gets a stray punch to the jaw and a kick to his ribs (both that result in bruises the next day because Akira is strong when he’s awake but an Akira that is uninhibited by sleep is even _stronger_ ). While Goro tries to get air back into his lungs, Akira has fallen backwards out of bed, backpedaling into a corner and curling up tightly. It is one of the only times in Goro’s memory when he actually _panics_ as he calls Sojiro because Akira isn’t responding and Goro doesn’t know what to do—

They have a system after that. 

Goro sleeps on the outside now, and slips out of bed when he’s awakened by Akira’s jolting. He pulls on his gloves, sits down just two steps away from the bed, and starts _talking_. Sometimes it’s about Goro’s day or some recent events, sometimes he picks up a novel and starts reading it out loud and sometimes Goro simply pours his heart out through Phoenix Ranger Featherman R. He talks until his mouth is dry and his voice turns hoarse and then some more, because Akira says that Goro’s voice calms and grounds him and isn’t that just the most ironic thing?

“Goro…” Akira rasps, his eyes pained but clear and he tugs weakly the leather glove.

It’s a sign to Goro that Akira is back with him and Goro nearly scrambles to comply. He pulls off his gloves and slips back under the covers. Akira grabs at Goro’s bare hands, treads them together tightly and buries his face into the crook of Goro’s shoulder. 

“Red Hawk always forgives Black Condor because _he’s_ the stupid one and he just wants Black Condor to stay.” Akira says softly, _tiredly_. 

“When you put it that way, Red Hawk _is_ the stupid one, I suppose.” Goro’s smile is tender and soft. “Or maybe,” He offers. “Maybe they’re both stupid.” 

“I think… I like that.” Akira agrees. 

**3\. Goro and Akira**

Sometimes, on very rare occasions, their nightmares coincide, and like defeated disaster shadows, it is **explosive**.

Goro wakes biting on a strangled scream. His heart is thundering in his chest and all he can see is Akira, with a hole in his forehead and blood pouring down his face, staring right at him with wide blank eyes. Akira’s lips were moving and though Goro couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own heartbeat, he was able to lipread his words. 

_“…Looks like the show’s over. You win,_ Detective _.”_

Logically, Goro knows it is just another nightmare, but he can’t push the image of Akira’s empty, _dead_ eyes out of his head. 

_'It’s real it’s real I killed him I killed him I killed him—’_

The twisted mantra runs in his head, and when Goro turns to his side, he sees Akira lying in a puddle of his own blood—

Goro shuts his eyes and his hands fly to his hair, pulling on them tightly as though the pain can help. Goro has never cried after a nightmare but sobs tear out of him tonight and Goro _needs_ Akira, needs to know he’s alive, that for the people Goro has killed, Goro hasn’t killed _him_ , hasn’t shot him in cold blood—

Goro reaches out for Akira, grabbing his wrist because he needs to feel Akira’s pulse and Akira _screams._

 _“Don’t touch me!!”_ Akira shrieks, trying and failing to wretch the wrist out of the grip. “Please please please I’ll confess I’ll confess don’t touch me do _n’t touch me_ —!!” Akira screams, kicking and pushing frantically because all he sees are needles and handcuffs and it hurts so much and he just wants everything to stop— 

Goro slams _hard_ into the shelf and pain shoots up his spine instantly, knocking what little breath he had out of his lungs. He is still gasping breathlessly but the pain clears his mind just enough for horror to wash over him because he’s so caught up on his insignificant little dream that he _touched Akira_. And Akira is crying, screaming, begging and Goro needs to talk, needs to distract him but his throat is still clamped up and he can’t _speak_. 

“It hurts it hurts it hurts please stop I’ll do it I’ll do it—”

Goro cries, choking on his falling tears because Akira has never truthfully told him about the full extent of what happened to him in that interrogation room, always tries to downplay it because Akira is stupidly self-sacrificing like that. He knows he needs to talk, needs to ground Akira but Goro _can’t_ because he’s busy crying when he clearly doesn’t deserve to. 

“Please I don’t want to do it anymore please end it end it end it—”

Akira is still sobbing, still pleading while curled up in the corner and Goro falls forward, barely managing to stop himself in time to fall at the foot of the bed and—

“Please help me…”

—Goro is crying harder now. He wants to touch Akira, to hug him, to tell him everything is fine, that they’re fine, they’re alive, they’re _here_. Goro turns, what little is left of his mind telling him to find his phone and call someone—Sae, Sojiro, even the thieves—but what catches his eyes is the light reflecting off the old TV and the pile of DVDs beside it and Goro practically falls over himself as he stumbles across the room. 

His hands are shaking so much it takes Goro two tries to turn on the TV and several more to jam the DVD into the player but when he finally succeeds, the room is lit up and filled with the familiar sounds of Phoenix Ranger Featherman R. Goro doesn’t have any strength left in him, practically crawing back towards the bed with the TV remote clutched in his hand like a lifeline and he collapses against the shelf with a shudder.

Goro’s head is pounding from the dreams and tears and _fear_ , from the situation as a whole, and he can barely think but he forces himself to focus, carefully counting the seconds in his head and turning up the volume of the TV bit by bit every few minutes. 

By the time the TV is loud enough that the bugs planted on the Leblanc’s ground floor can probably catch it, Goro’s breathing is almost even and his hands are barely trembling, while the hitches in Akira’s breathing have slowly eased out. It is several minutes later when Goro hears Akira calling him, but Goro doesn't dare move; not when it was his own selfish needs that triggered Akira into an attack in the first place. He pretends to be engrossed in the show, but Akira knows better, always knows better, and he practically falls out of bed. Goro finds himself lunging to catch Akira, only realising too late that Akira stumbles on purpose. 

Akira wiggles and shifts between Goro’s legs, wrapping his arms tightly against Goro, who is still frozen, too scared to touch. 

“Goro…” Akira rasps. “It’s okay… I’m okay, it’s fine… You can… Please I need you to—”

Akira says, and that’s all the permission Goro needs to wrap his arms around Akira and bury his face in the crook of his shoulder. 

“Akira… Akira Akira Akira…” Goro says, over and over again like a prayer.

“It’s okay… we’re fine, we’re fine…” Akira answers, just as fervently.

Akira clings onto him as much as Goro does and then they’re both crying again, cursing at a god they don’t believe in, cursing at the unjust world that hurt them, _broke_ them, but it’s okay because they may be _fools_ broken by _justice_ but they are alive and together and they’re going to be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
